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No one knew what they were most surprised about: that Batman was sick (because despite being human, that man was in astoundingly good health) or that he actually requested time off to recover.
Probably the last one, to be honest.
Batman came to work even when half of his ribs were broken.
"Are we sure he's not dying?" asked Flash, looking really concerned over the news.
"Nightwing said it was just the flu."
"Yeah, but are we talking like an Earth flu or an intergalatic danger flu?" Green Lantern squinted his eyes in doubt, earning a couple of nods around the room. Their brain could simply not process the idea that a common sickness could take down the Batman.
"Regular flu," confirmed Wonder Woman, huffing in disbelief too. "Agent A decided to put him under strict watch until he recovers completely."
"Ah," the crowd mumbled.
Now that made more sense than the Bat prioritizing his well-being over the mission.
"For how long?" followed up Superman.
"At least a couple of days. He's not doing patrols in Gotham either." Diana pulled up their rota doc on the conference room screen. "The bats will take over his routes, but we'll keep an open line for support in case of emergency. Flash and Superman, I'd appreciate it if you two in particular paid attention to it. All agree?"
They did in chorus. Wonder Woman clapped her hands, putting a pin in the topic, and moved on to other pressing matters. Thankfully, there was not much happening lately—no alien invasions in a month! That was a new record—so the meeting wrapped up quickly, and they all went back to their favorite activity: gossiping about Batman's private life.
Most of the heroes in the Justice League had shared their identities years ago. Some revelations were a result of slip-ups, sure, but they decided to trust their teammates with the truth.
Batman did not.
The League had been formed five years prior, and there was not a single hero that knew anything about their resident psycho-furry. Nothing personal at least: they knew he had a team of subordinates who he worked with to protect the city of Gotham, which lead them to assume he was a native to the city (possibly), and that he did not have superpowers (that one was still being debated on). He was moody and taciturn, but kind and just. He disliked clowns (call it an occupational hazard) and people meddling in his business. And he somehow always knew when someone was talking about him, only to appear behind their backs to give them the scare of a lifetime—oh yeah, he liked dramatic entrances and exits too. Way too much.
But he definitely could not do that if one of his bat-associates, particularly the one who always seemed to be able to make Batman do what he did not wish to do, kept him locked in his Batcave.
So they took their rare chance when they got it.
"Dude, he got grounded. That's hilarious."
Hal took (imagined?) off his mask, since they were now having a break from business, and started cackling.
"Just who is this Agent A? And what dirt does he have on Batman?" inquired Dinah.
"He does sound smart, so the blackmail is not off the table."
"You're just saying that because he has a British accent, Barry."
"I so do not."
"He sounds more mature than the rest of the team too. Maybe he's the one who trained Batman?" suggested Zatanna, frowning at the mental image of a hulky man tying Batman up to a hospital stretcher with heavy chains and locks so he could not escape to fight off criminals.
He had to be strong and agile for sure to be able to control the caped weirdo.
"Could be. Maybe he raised him."
Silence reigned for a couple of seconds, and then they all broke in laughter at Oliver's words.
"Nah, that'd mean he got benched by his dad."
"Oh, I would just love it if that was the case." Hal positively shuddered at the thought of more material to tease their grumpy colleague with.
"He's going to find a way to leave you stranded and powerless in the middle of the sea one of these days, Hal, and we would not be able to do anything about it."
"Even if we wanted to," added Dinah.
"Hey! So much for team loyalty."
"I'm loyal to my life, and being on Batman's good graces helps with that."
"The other ones, on the other hand, sound so young," continued J'onn. "Like human teenagers, or at least young adults."
"Oh, yeah! The Robins! What's up with that? Start them young to inherit the creepy lurking business?"
"That cannot be healthy," commented Arthur.
"It works for us."
"Amazons are not human, Diana."
"They seem to be doing well, if a little chaotic at times," remarked Barry. "I'm not really someone to talk about not having young mentees."
Arthur took his chance to chip into the conversation. "Does he run an academy or something, though? One or two are fine, but every time I check, there's a new head popping up in Gotham brandishing a bat logo."
"That city does need a lot of help. It's got to be cursed."
"Yeah! And what's up with the obsession with flying rats?" jumped Hal once more, getting even more excited that now more people were joining in on the fun of friendly shittalking Batman. "I do love a good brand identity, but there's got to be a limit. Have you seen his car and plane? Just where do you get those?"
That opened up a very lively conversation that lasted a while. They never had the opportunity to discuss their favorite conjectures at ease: some speculated Batman was sponsored by a group of rich people, that he was a literal bat-man and that's why they'd never seen his full face, that he was a crazy scientist and created all his items himself in a secret location, or that he was actually a meta and his power was manipulating time and space, which was the only explanation they could think about for how he managed to surprise even the superpowered. Diana could only shake her head and smile at the team's antics.
The more secretive Batman remained, the crazier the theories about his secret identity became. Over the years it had gone from simpler stuff like him having a complex about his looks all the way up to him having some sort of criminal past he was working hard to redeem himself for.
She didn't mind either way, but she had to admit the whole thing was fun.
Right in the middle of madness, only one mouth remained shut, eyes staring at the distance, in Earth's direction. Superman looked focused on something only his Kryptonian eyes could see (or maybe he was listening in to something happening on planet?)
"What about you, Supes? What is your theory?"
Barry's words pulled him back from the depth of his mind.
"Nothing really. I think he's just scared and trying to protect himself and the people he cares about."
Dinah cooed, making grabby hands at him like he was an adorable toddler whose cheekss she wanted to pinch. "You're such a sweetheart, Blue."
"Are you naturally this cute or…?"
"It's the farm boy charm, son. Ma and Pa raised you proper, ain't that right!" Hal said with a borderline offensive, stereotypical, and exaggerated western accent.
"I'm going to ask you to never do that again."
"That was terrible, dude," agreed Barry, grimacing at his best friend. "Thank god you got that ring and did not dabble into acting."
"I was a pilot!"
Superman was impressed about how close some of the guesses were. There was a secret cave where Batman worked on his projects (even if he asked Lucius Fox to manufacture the ones on a heavier scale), and he was sponsored by deep pockets (his own); but he was dying to outwardly reproach the accusation that he was anything but beautiful under the cowl.
Also, he was just that good at his job; it was not his fault everyone else was jumpy and distracted all the time.
"Well, I think the old bat–"
Clark muted the voices of his friends, no longer interested in whatever silliness they threw around. Instead, he looked down at the the phone on his hands, where his conversation wass Bruce was opened up.
B are you all right????
I heard you're sick?????
And didn't tell me?????????
Are you in pain????????????
B?
I'm fine
No, you're not. Youd be here if you were, and you
aren't so how can I make you feel better?
The team is going crazy about you being
sick btw
Not surprising
And it's fine. Alfred has me on meds.
Whatever would you do without Alfred?
Die.
Bruce!
Or not.
Not funny
It was.
I'm coming to see you as soon as I'm done here
No need. Alfred and Dick have trapped
me in my room. It's boring.
That's why you need me. Can you eat solids?
I'm not hungry.
I know a great restaurant downtown.
I could get us takeout
We could watch a movie
And cuddle
…
My throat hurts
I'll make you soup and we'll cuddle then
Can you make soup?
Ma can teach me
…
Okay
He had not managed to finish writting his last message when the tower's alarm rang out. It kind of hurt. Having sensitive eardrums had its disadvantages.
All team members stood up and ran to the monitors, working on getting information about the incoming message.
Alert: Alien spaceship incoming
There it went, their amazing One Month Since streak reset to zero.
"All right, crew. We don't have a read on our visitors yet, but they have not gotten close to Earth. Let's try to handle this calmly and as far away from the planet as possible, okay? Supes, Martian Manhunter, and I will go." Hal, being a Green Lantern, a universal authority of sorts, made for a good choice of a representative, and Clark and J'on were very apt at negotiations, so no one had a problem with it. 'If something goes wrong, send Diana."
"At your disposal, my friend," Diana grinned in a jest, but she was clearly hoping they did not have to send in the cavalry.
With a plan as clear it got, they all moved to prepare for their own tasks. It was a procedure they had done thousands of times already, so it didn't take long for the emissary ship to be ready. Clark kind of wished it took longer.
"Okay, Supes, let's go." Hal passed by him.
"Yeah, um, just let me make a call. I'll be there in a flash."
"Hey!" Barry pointed a finger at him. "That is my thing."
"Sorry, bud."
"Whatever, you leave in five," and then he disappeared. In a flash, of course.
The phone rang two times before Bruce picked up.
"Clark," his voice sounded raspier than usual. It must have been a bad cold.
"Heeeeeeey, B," Clark scratched the back of his head nervously, even if the other man at the end of the line couldn't see him. "I'm going to be late."
"Status."
"No, no, no. Nothing serious," Clark panicked. Give him the slightest hint of an issue, and that stubborn bat would be in suit and commanding the place. "Just unexpected visitors. I just called to let you know not to worry if it takes me…" he considered. "Maybe two hours more?"
"Two hours."
"Or less. Who knows? Maybe they're on a sightseeing trip?"
"Clark."
"Sorry, sorry. Serious matters, of course." He let out a dissapointed sigh. "I really want to cuddle, that's all."
Overall, the signal from the Watchtower was great. The wi-fi was unmatched, really. So it was not because of a bad connection that Clark couldn't hear a reply from Bruce.
Jeepers.
The relationship thing was kind of new. Three months kind of new. Honestly speaking, Batman and Superman had been dancing around each other for years even before the Justice League had finally formed—the team itself liked to joke about Superman being Batman's shadow's shadow for how much he ran behind the brooding hero (and if they made bets about how long it took for them to get together, Clark decided to considerably pretend he did not hear them). Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent also had a significant amount of time as friends (and occasional interviewer-interviewee).
But as lovers? That was recent. And awkward.
Not in an "I don't know how to interact with you" sense, but in a "How far is too far when being lovey-dovey" style.
Bruce was not great at being outwardly cheesy.
Clark was all for it.
And the middle ground was still unclear.
"Too much?"
More silence.
"I want to, as well."
The corners of his eyes scrunched up as the biggest smile took over Clark's face. "Yeah?"
"So hurry, or Alfred will give me something to make me sleepy."
"You refuse to rest, Master Bruce, I'll use whatever means necessary," he could hear the butler say, earning a frustrated groan from the Wayne patriarch that sounded more like a tantrum than real anger.
"See? get moving."
Clark rolled his eyes at the hissy fit. "I'll try my best."
"Do that," and he hung up.
He's so cute.
The perspective of going into cold space to talk to whoever knows what in hopes of it not being a hostile takeover attempt was not very motivating. But an adorable and broody bat was, so he put hands to work.
"I didn't know there were interplanetary travel agencies."
"How exactly does taxation work?"
"Do you think they even pay taxes?"
"Well, they certainly are not great with the paperwork if they thought they could show up unannounced to a planet."
"Maybe it's something we can mediate."
"Yeah," Barry laughed, reclining back into his seat. "How do you suggest we do that?"
"I have contacts." Diana smiled.
"You're a scary woman."
Good news was: no alien invasion. Bad news: it had taken way too long to get the ideas across since their visitors did not comprehend the concepts of "permission to land" or "human fear of the unknown." It was sad that they had to make the tourist group give up on their stop, but that was preferable to making the whole world panic.
How flattering that they liked Earth enough to make an intergalactic visit, though.
Clark was definitely on board with working something out.
But later, because at the moment he had a d–
"Alert: Intergang attack. Metropolis." The watchtower screen yelled at full volumen.
Oh, come on!
"No rest for the wicked," Zatanna smiled and pushed him, alongside Diana, J'onn and Barry, to the boom tubes. "Well, I hope no one had plans for the day!"
He took advantage of their distraction while J'onn inserted the coordinates to send another message.
Hey B, about those two hours…
It was getting ridiculous.
Was it a curse?
HAD HE BEEN CURSED?
Days of a superhero's life were always busy. That was the default setting. But what kind of ancient artifact did someone somewhere break to unleash a boderline apocalyptic energy so bad they had spent the last four hours dealing with bank robberies, a monsoon, multiple fires, hostage situations AND a falling bridge?
Oh, and the oil spill in in South Africa. Those poor penguins.
It was barely three in the afternoon.
"I'm dying," Arthur groaned. Coordinating between the league, his own Atlantean forces and sea creatures to handle the mess had really been his last straw. "We cannot go out again. I might actually pass out."
"Don't jinx it," Dinah mumbled, head buried in her crossed arms as she leaned over the meeting table so Oliver could put some cream on her wounds from one of the fires. Nothing serious, but it wasn't fun. "The gods will hear you."
"The demons, you mean," Zatanna said, slamming a hand on the table. "There must be some strange enchantment taking action. I'll get some books."
She didn't move an inch.
Not that Clark could blame them.
He stared at the conversation thread on his small screen.
B, it might take a bit longer…
It's fine, Clark. Focus on your job.
Alfred is keeping watch
But I wanted to be the one to do that :(
We can just postpone.
There's nothing fun in a sick person.
I don't know what your talking about.
Taking care of you sounds amazing
You're exagerating.
It's a boyfriend's right!
TTYL THERES A MISSING CHILD!!!
Good luck.
Im back, the kid is ffine
That's great.
The penguins are not
I saw. Oil spill.
This is taking forever
There's no rush.
omygod b a magic teenager is trying to rob the
british museum
I just
give me an hour
Clark. Don't worry.
I want to worry TT
He was considering reading Zatanna's books as well. There was no way he was that exhausted without magic being involved.
It could be psychological, yes.
But considering the day they were having? Enchantments were not off the table.
I really am so sorry B
I'll make it up to you
"It makes me want to wish I got whatever debilitating illness Batman has," Hal complained.
"It's just a cold, pal."
"Better yet, it's not deadly. I'll kiss the bat and get his cold so I'm the one lying in bed if that means I get off this torture loop we're in."
Clark startled in his seat, almost jumping in to yell at Hal for such an outrageous suggestion, only to stop himself because, well, Superman had no reason to react so strongly about an intimacy joke about his coworker.
"No one is kissing Batman," Diana's voice left no room for argument. "And we should not be taking our colleagues health lightly. He does that himself. We know better."
Barry groaned. "The only one doing it can't even get sick."
What.
"What?" he repeated outloud.
"Drop it, Blue. We all know you and Spooky smooch."
"We do not!"
The glances around the room said a lot about the lack of conviction his words carried.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire."
"Nothing else be on fire, please!" Arthur cried at the edge of collapse.
"Sorry, dude. No fires." Oliver gave the man some gentle pats on the shoulder.
"I don't know what you're talking about. We're just friends."
A buzz from his phone makes him look at it once more.
"Listen in." Clark reads on the screen.
He instantly searches for the familiar heartbeat that awaited in Gotham for his visit. It was only slightly embarrassing to see how quickly he was able to attune his superhearing to Bruce's direction.
"Clark."
"Erm, guys. I'm going to the bathroom."
There was no strength left for any of them to actually reply.
"Don't go to the bathroom. Slip into my quarters. The code's 0408."
"Oh, that's Alf– Wait, how are you hearing me?"
"I might have installed some things in your suit last time you stayed over."
"You implanted spyware on me?"
"Yes."
That was honest, and kind of sweet, and not creepy at all.
He really was lovesick.
Personal quarters were located on the opposite side of the Watchtower—not that it mattered when you had superspeed. He inserted the code and gave his surroundings a look before locking the door behind him.
"Ok. I'm in your room." Batman's, at least. His whole day was ruined precisely because he had not been able to get into Bruce's room. "You should hang up some posters."
The rooms were not luxurious or anything; they didn't even have windows for structural sturdiness reasons or something. And the walls were metallic and cold. They were equipped with a bed, a desk, and some storage, but nothing more. Clark had decorated his with some nice pillows, pictures of their team, Batman's little feedback notes he got when doing reports, … you know, the usual. But this one was as soulless as they came.
"I only need a place to hide from Jordan and Barry," Bruce's raspy voice defended. "and to rest from time to time. It serves its purpose just fine."
Clark chuckles. "Sounds like you." He sat on the bed. It was a great mattress; they spared no expense on the comfort of the JL members. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm not–"
"You'd probably lie. I'll ask Alfred later when I get there. And I will get there. We're only waiting for some lab tests on a serum sample we seized from a gang in Star City. Just to check the contents and hand it over to the authorities. Then I'm gone."
"Clark, don't punish yourself. We have busy days, and today is one of those. It's fine."
"But B," he pouted, playing with a stray thread on the blanket. "My mother already sent me pictures of her special chicken soup."
At least there were no cameras around so Bruce wouldn't see him sulk. Or were they? He scaned the place.
Nothing.
Following Batman's logic, that would actually give someone a chance to spy on him, so it made sense that the room was risk-free.
"Don't you want to see me?"
Clark could hear the jump in Bruce's heartbeat, and the way he nervously gulped.
"You know I do, Clark."
"Well, you could say it more. Stingy."
"You say it five minutes after you're out of my door."
"That is five minutes too long away from basking in your endearing presence."
"You're impossible."
"I'm just in love." Oops. He dropped the big L.
Clark's throat tightened in fear. Oh deary. Sure, pining over your best friend for ten or so years made it completely logical in his mind to admit to being absolutely enamored. And there was no way the world's greatest detective didn't actually know it already. The rest of the team did (no matter how hard he denied it), and Bruce could read him like a book.
But he had never said the words to him.
Between the anxiety, the exhaustion, and the silence in Gotham, Clark was sure he would be the first Kryptonian to hyperventilate.
"… I mean. If you're really not tired, I guess there is still tim–"
Then a different, now objectively dreadful sound, made its appearance.
"Alert: landslide. North Macedonia."
Someone had to change the system's voice after that day; otherwise they would get serious PTSD any time they heard another alert.
From the other side of the ship, Clark heard the collective cries of his traumatized team mates.
"Duty calls…" he wanted to hang up on it.
No, that wasn't nice.
But oh, was he ever more tempted to do so.
Bruce didn't say anything else. With every step Clark took on the path to the hangar, it felt as if the gravity in the space station had increased by 10%.
"Clark."
He stopped moving on command (not that he needed to). "Yes, B?"
"Be careful on your way home," and Clark could tell he was blushing hard as he got the words out.
He was kissing the heck out of his boyfriend as soon as he escaped that hell.
Six p.m.
They managed to hand over the shift to the B team safely after taking care of who-knows-how-many disasters that threatened the sanity of their group.
Arthur didn't even bother coming up to the Watchtower; he just jumped into the sea.
He would be worried on a different day.
"How did the day go, guys?"
Captain Marvel's enthusiastic greeting was not well received.
"Jeez, who killed your dog?"
"Cyborg, my dude. My bestie. My life. If you go over our footage and write our missions report, I swear I'll do anything you ask me for a week," Barry was down on his knees, chewing on some beef jerky.
"Either cry or eat, Flash. Gross." Shayera squinted her eyes at the pathetic sight. "Long day?"
Diana's hands shook as she dutifully cleaned her sword. "Like you wouldn't imagine, my friend."
"You can just leave, man," Green Lanter (Kyle) said, trying not to laugh. With the help of his ring, he conjured something from the kitchen. "Here, eat a snickers."
"I'm not in the mood for a snickers."
Plastic Man broke into a fit of laughter. "That just means you have to eat it. You're not you when you're hungry."
They all groaned at the unnecessary slogan joke.
"It's fine, guys. Go get some rest."
With Cyborg's seal of approval, they all let out a sigh of relief and made their way to the boom tubes before the sound of their nightmares decided to throw them another task. They teleported to the Hall of Justice so they could get out of there as quickly as possible.
"I could use a drink," Oliver drawled, wiping his eyes.
"You want to keep seeing our faces after today?"
"I always want to see your gorgeous face, Dinah."
Barry and Hal mock-puked.
"And the torture continues," Hal said dryly, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I'm up for it though. The bar of the 7th?"
"Do they have food?"
Soon they were all agreeing to the offer, safe for a big frame dressed in red and blue slowly trying to crawl away.
"Where are you running off too, Supes?"
Clark laughed nervously. "Nowhere! I mean, I was– It's just– Eh. Raincheck?"
"What, you have a date?"
"No…"
"You do have a date!" Dinah teased.
"Supes, you dog!"
"Who is the lucky person? Is it a girl? A guy? Are they human? Are they even anthropomorphic?" Oliver let a heavy hand land on Clark's shoulder. "You know we don't judge. Share with the class."
Zatanna wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Is it Lois again?"
"NO."
"Wait," Hal interjected, pointing a finger at him. "Aren't you dating Batman?"
Suddenly there were seven sets of eyes (I see you enjoy human gossip a little too much, J'onn) drilling into his face.
Clark bit his lip, overwhelmed by the attention. For someone with so many secrets, he was really bad at coming up with excuses; especially if he was overworked, overstimulated, and suffering from bat withdrawal syndrome.
He could actually hear Bruce's low chuckle back in his place. Clark couldn't believe he was still listening in.
The only thing holding Clark's mental state together during the past hours had been the humorous/dry/flirty commentary from Bruce in his ear. Oracle must have given him access to the cameras of the world so he could follow them like a hound in exchange for behaving and staying in bed. He wasn't complaining. And it only made him seem slighly crazy when his teammates asked why he was talking to himself.
"I'm tired," he had said.
They understood.
Also, they were too busy dealing with intergalactic weaponery to care that much.
But now they were free and relaxed and ready for a juicy insight into their favorite Boy Scout's romantic life. So he pulled his best move.
"I think I hear an alarm going off. See ya!" he exclaimed as he flew away.
"We'll get it out of you sooner or later, Blue!"
"You can run, but you can't hide! We have a Batman!"
"But we don't right now."
"Yeah, but he'll come back. And he'll want to know who he's being cheated on with."
"How evil of you, Ollie."
"As if you weren't curious yourself, Allen."
"All right, kids. We must go drink our weight in ale to celebrate our victories of the day."
"Now you're talking, princess."
For now, he was safe from their clutches. A little mercy, at last.
"Hey Bruce?"
"Yeah?"
"I think we should watch The Iron Giant."
"Stop talking and fly over before something else comes up, big guy," Bruce chuckled under his breath.
He only encountered one cat stuck in a tree while getting the ingredients.
"I think you're overreacting."
Bruce was being buried alive by 100 kilos of muscle and mushiness. Sure, it was more like he was buried in the chest of the 100 kilos, but he felt the constraint nonetheless. And yes, the mattress was super comforting, the pillows soft, and his boyfriend's body warmth was truly enjoyable. But he would like to breath. Today, Clark was playing the role of the bigger spoon very seriously.
Once Ma Kent's soup™ was finished, served, and hand-fed to the convalescent, the overgrown teddy bear had dragged him to bed and pressed play on the movie. Clark had unfortunately joined hands with Alfred on the ridiculous "recovering your health is our priority" campaign as soon as he was Bruce dragging himself out of bed wrapped in a blanket and looking barely alive, and now his off time had been extended to a week.
He might have a fever, but he was not useless. He had tons of cold compresses and antipyretics to run Gotham.
But well, Clark's puppy eyes were very persuasive. Also, Alfred was still very scary.
"If you knew the day I've had, you would be giving me some praise."
Bruce arched one of his beautifully pointy eyebrows.
"Ok, you do know, or whatever. So where's my reward?" Clark pouted.
Bruce's low, happy grumbles vibrated through his body. He lifted his face from Clark's chest, caught his lover's adorable face between his hands, and pecked his nose.
"Good boy, Clark."
And if they spent the next couple of hours kissing, that was no one's business but their own.
BONUS STORY 1
Superman is only slightly insane
"On your six."
"I know."
Clark spun around in the air to face his attackers directly, but not without using the ones he was already dealing with as a whip to knock them unconscious.
A cascade of small furry figures fell to the ground like flies.
He almost felt bad.
"Where did all these flying monkeys even come from?" Zatanna cried. "Egac a ni meht part!" She then caught seven or eight in a cage. It was difficult to count while they were still moving around like frenzied beasts.
"Say something about the Wizard of OZ, and I'll throw you intto the river, Lantern." Hal kept his mouth shut to avoid death at the hands of Dinah Lance.
"That's so hot."
"Look for a Golden Cap."
"You're such a nerd," Clark said with a smile.
Oliver looked at him quizzically. "Huh?"
"Focus, man!" Barry punched a couple of monkeys trying to get a hold of his cape. Oliver almost got his quiver taken away ("Thank you, Wonder Woman!").
"Yes, Clark, don't distract your team. Things could get hairy."
"That was so bad. I wish I could see your face while you said that. I bet your ears are going red," Clark whispered. "If only I could get a picture."
"Yeah, I bet that's precisely what you want pictures of."
Clark almost choked on his own spit. He was the one blushing now. "Stop it, B!"
"Nervous, Clark? Handle your apes correctly and you'll get a reward."
"You're killing me," he sobbed at the rush of images that came to his mind. Oh, the possibilities.
"What are you talking about?" J'onn did not show many expressions on his face, but that was definitely confusion with a hint of worry.
He was so glad they had an agreement in the team that Martian Manhunter was not allowed to use his mind-reading abilities on them unless discussed with the team and in case of emergencies.
If only he could convince him he wasn't going insane (which would count as an emergency).
"Ehh… a bee, yes. It wanted to sting me. Not that it could penetrate my skin, but it could die trying. That's sad, and the sadness would kill me. So, I told it to stop."
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. And by "curtains," it meant the increasingly higher voice he was using the more crap he talked.
"What a great comeback, Clark. Very creative." Clark didn't need to be in front of Bruce to know that he had a smug smirk on his face.
The lovely jerk.
Diana squinted her eyes in his direction but said nothing, as she was occupied with another wave of primates.
"They think I've lost it."
"It took them a while."
"Meanie."
"You like it when I'm like this."
"I'll neither confirm nor deny."
Bruce snickered. "Like I need you to."
Multiple cages and a demented witch mastermind in magic handcuffs later, Metropolis was officially monkey-free. Figuring out where the animals would go was confusing at first, but Zatanna eventually found a way to send them to a pocket dimension in the meantime.
"Is the exhaustion getting to you too, Superman?" Diana asked, sheathing her sword.
"I'm fine?" he responded slowly.
"You were speaking to yourself, were you not?"
"Oh that! It was nothing."
"You said it was a bee," J'onn reminded him.
"A bee? There are no parks around, this is a concrete jungle," Arthur jabbed because of course they were suddenly interested in factual accuracy.
"It was a stray bee." He mentally slapped his forehead.
"A stray bee," repeated Dinah, not at all convinced by the excuse. "Are you seeing anything else around?"
Oh, she really thought he was going mad.
"Tell them you're seeing bats."
He pulled a hand over his mouth and pretended to cough. "Shut it."
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"That's not how lunacy works, Flash."
"Could be if he said that my fingers have eyes."
Diana approached him. Ignoring the chaos around was easy; his team mates were naturally chatty and chaotic. Also they were tired; the stress made them more social for some reason.
"It has been a heavy day, Superman. If you're feeling strange–"
"I'm fine, guys!" Clark threw his hands into the air.
"Alert: Reports of a commercial airplane losing altitude. Metropolis." Their intercoms shouted.
Oliver fell to his knees. "Please make it stop."
With his presumed madness buried under the feeling of absolute desperation and sense of justice, Clark felt at ease enough to direct a few words to Bruce.
"I'm making you pay for this."
"Can't wait."
BONUS STORY 2
Keep your coworkers close and your favorite deranged celebrities closer
"Supes, you're dating Bruce Wayne?!"
Barry made his dramatic entrance by kicking in the door and screaming bloody murder into the crowded Watchtower community area.
Arthur made a 180° turn just to look straight into Clark's eyes.
"I thought you were in love with Batman?!" and as if it was even necessary, he pointed to the masked figure crunching over his laptop.
Clark gulped and went back to Barry. "Why do you think I'm dating Bruce Wayne?"
"I might or might not have been in yesterday's CCPD charity gala and saw you two kissing on the emergency stairs."
"Why were you on the emergency stairs?" Diana frowned.
Barry shrugged. "Even though it was a buffet, people looked at me weird after the seventh plate."
"You're right they would, buddy." Hal crossed his arms while nodding. "Now you. Time to spill your guts. Was he the date you were meeting on the Fatidic Day?"
"He was– Uhm–"
Technically, yes. But that would mean that they would think he was cheating on Batman (because they definitely did not believe it when he tried to deny their relationship, and they kind of got caught earlier that week anyways, so it was not a secret anymore. Kind of).
Bruce took a look at his boyfriend's panicked frame and trembling lips and made a decision.
As soon as he slid off the cowl, silence took over the room.
For about ten seconds.
"Bruce Wayne is Batman??!!!"
"Oh god, Spooky is actually hot. I hate this."
"You were humping an ice sculpture in a bar like two weeks ago!"
"Is that how you got sick?"
"No way, dude, I know you."
"Hey Ollie," greeted Bruce with a scoff.
"You flying rat. You knew my identity this whole time and dared pull a Brucie on me every single event?"
"Yes."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"Dinah!"
"But you don't. You love Bruce."
"Let's look at the bright side: Blue is not a cheater!" Zatanna exclaimed, throwing some sparkles in the air.
"No, now he's a stepfather of…" Arthur counted with his fingers. "Four kids?"
Five. But no one needed to know Jason was actually alive and he was the reformed criminal/vigilante Red Hood.
"You're in for quite the journey with Spooky over there, Clark." Hal threw an arm over his shoulders. He looked over the sight of a half-fainted Barry being dragged away by J'onn while Bruce smirked at Oliver having a mental breakdown over the times Brucie shot double-meaning phrases to him in the past.
He was ready for it.